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Wednesday, March 9, 2016

where the passive-aggressive roller coaster ride stops and I get off


~yesterday morning~

To call this improvement is almost a massive understatement. I'm trying to get out the door, doing 5 things at once, grabbed shoes and sox and leaned my butt against a wall putting them on, and it hit me while I was doing it that it was the first time I've put shoes on AND tied them standing up on the first try in very many years. Between my hands sucking and my terrible balance problems since the accident, I've actually spent a few years not being able to tie shoes at all (went to velcro), and even sitting and tying shoes was difficult at best. So to be standing and putting onning and tying without a thought is IMPROVEMENT.

~yesterday afternoon~

I told the occupational therapist that and she totally put notes in my chart.

I keep forgetting to call my Dad (srsly, this our talk history- Dec. 26, Feb. 1, and last night), so he called last night and we talked about ladybugs for 34 minutes. I read him the stuff I found about them being fakes, how to tell real from fakes, basically the entire infestation SW MO has been going through is all fakes, and it doesn't matter, he still opens a window for them so they can get out, or carries them gently outside. I finally broke Scott of doing that this year. And it hit me last night rereading through some of the articles that the reason my house has been smelling so weird this year is because we have millions of these things in the walls. Fake ladybugs have a gross odor, and my house often smells like someone's old sour sock when the heat comes on. I'm the one stuck at home all the time smelling this, by the time Scott comes home the house smells like supper cooking. Anyway, all the extra cleaning I've been doing, it's really these stupid fake ladybugs piling up in our central vacuum tank because all our vacuum hoses hook up to the walls. x_x I told @bonenado that seemed like a dumb idea.

It's ok, I'm mostly just crabby because my arms and hands ache again and there's not much more I can do about it. And I can't eat pancakes any more on #nationalpancakeday because I'm diabetic.


Aside from general pain-related crabbiness, I've noticed my 'nerves' have gone down pretty sharply over the last month. I haven't felt this laid back in ages, it's wonderful. I keep waiting for a shoe to drop or something, but I'm driving without anxiety attacks, I'm handling all my stuff, I'm keeping my money straight, and I'm not sweating stats and analytics like a game I have to win. Last couple of weeks have even been enjoyable, which is interesting because I've had some pretty difficult days and nights that normally have me cycling through a daily hitting and splatting a wall thing. I mean, I don't think my depression is cured or anything, but I'm not manic and floaty and I'm not cringey and weepy, and I'm not pacing around pissed and plotting revenges, and I'm not eating all day or losing myself in anything. It feels like the pressure is gone. There was always this pressure I put on myself to keep grinding through stuff.

~this morning~

I have unfollowed nearly 1500 twitter accounts now. I kept wondering why so many keep sticking around in spite of that (my actual follower number has only dropped around 500), like, surely they can't like me that much, right? So I just started going down a list and checking, and you wouldn't believe how many of those accounts went dead. Real people, just stopped. Did they die? Get bored? Get new phones and lose their passwords? So many mysteries.


At any rate, I see no point in following people who've not tweeted a thing since 2013 or 2014. This makes me feel even more cautious about new followers. I think I've followed about 5 back this last week that seemed pretty real. I can't help noticing that amid the hundreds of dead accounts I've unfollowed (over 500 just in the last few days), which the only other person I know on twitter also identically followed from the moment we met, there's one new account that followed a few of us recently but not that person yet. I can't help feeling this is a very pointed point that someone besides me is making a point of. No one else seems to care. Auties and spoonies and hashtag bloggers and other still active accounts in what I thought was my somewhat unique blend of followers is exactly duplicated by what I'm now coming to recognize as the biggest troll I've ever met in my life. I think what's hitting home is how the words "care" and "love" mean nothing more than a numbers game and winning a popularity contest. I might not have even given this a second thought except for that blaring inconsistency from that new follower catching my eye and really driving that point home, because I know the duplicator noticed (I cannot believe how many of my far flung acquaintances even from the Merlin and Sherlock fandoms are duplicated into that follower list, when none of them have ever interacted and this person has never seen the shows- the only common denominator is me), and jumped up and down trying to get noticed and followed, too. Srsly, nearly my entire follower list was identically duplicated, and I was following nearly 3000 people.

Oh, well. I just don't know how to fake it is all. I need to stop whining like a pathetic loser. If I'm interpreting this feeling correctly, I think it means the whole thing still hurts and I just don't know what to do with my feelings. I might seem arrogant, but I spent a rough hour last night feeling just plain stupid for being so openly stupid, easily manipulated and used for years by a person calling me friend, so easily pushed this way and that into directions I never meant to go. I feel like I'm peeling the twitter smear off so I can start over again. Some people just delete and make new accounts, but I've already been through rebuilding from scratch and I'm not doing that again, so I'm peeling it off and cleaning house smudge by smudge. I know exactly who I am, what I like, and what I'm doing now. Nothing galls me more than someone making like they're cool and copying ALL my interests and obsessions and still not lifting a finger to learn anything about them or even watch a single episode of a show *I* love. I mean, srsly, following Merlin and Sherlock and autism and #MondayBlogs and spoonies.


A couple of people are already saying this is just a phase and we'll be friends again soon. People who say this based on the public interaction they witnessed do not have a clue how deeply this runs, and how utterly and terribly aspie Aspienado is. The line is crossed. The moment has passed. The damage is irreparable if I won't shut my eyes and play along to someone else's game again.

I said it once before- it takes a lot of guts to stand up to someone on public social media. It takes a great big load of pride swallowing to keep revealing myself as a real person when everything I'm doing is being watched by people who keep me on notification. Only a tiny handful even have a clue about the public fights and side taking I never allowed to erupt by people wanting to protect me, even before any of it showed up on blogs. And last night it finally processed and really hit home how very visible my gullible stupidity was to those people all this time. Bystanders watched all the teasing, all my confusion, all the pain, and then they watched me put a stop to it after 3 years of sleeve tugging. What one person hasn't seemed to figure out yet is that I'm the one showing autie parents what's in their kids' heads, and giving them hope for their naturally innocent and easily manipulated loved ones surviving their futures all grown up. I broke through a lifelong emotional disconnect and communication barrier, and I'm building a bridge of understanding, brick by brick, and everything and everyone that happens to me becomes part of the brickwork.

Like I said, no more telling me to shut up, no more icing over the depression cake. No more feeling stupid over mixing up the word 'love' with 'troll'.

Don't forget this is about losing. "Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side," so says Sherlock Holmes. It's imperative that I lose, and lose big. I imagine Jack Sparrow would understand. We lose to ~*win*~.



It's vital we learn this. All of us.

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